


Star Wars: Matrons of the Light (A TLJ Sequel)

by Welzers



Category: Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Kylo Ren Has Issues, Kylo Ren Needs a Hug, Multi, Pilot Poe Dameron, Star Wars: The Rise of Skywalker Fix-It, Supreme Leader Kylo Ren, The First Order Sucks, X-Wing(s)
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-01-06
Updated: 2020-01-15
Packaged: 2021-02-27 08:48:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,416
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22134298
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Welzers/pseuds/Welzers
Summary: Kylo Ren follows the pull of the light when he risks his life to protect his apprentices and some unlikely allies. His path leads him to Rey, whose fits of violence on Resistance attack missions have fed a darkness taking root in her. Rey and Leia Organa grapple with the Jedi order's legacy of failure and struggle with the lessons to be drawn from it. Rose Tico charges the Resistance to grow beyond the cycle of attacking the First Order while protecting only itself. Poe Dameron and Finn take heed, joining Rose and Rey to launch a daring mission to liberate an agrarian-turned-industrial world occupied the First Order, and light a beacon of hope that rallies the galaxy.
Relationships: Poe Dameron/Finn, Rey/Ben Solo | Kylo Ren
Comments: 1
Kudos: 2





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> For fans who crave a true sequel to 'Star Wars: The Last Jedi,' one that expounds on its themes and empowers its heroines: this story is for you.
> 
> New chapters will be posted, with updated tags, every week or two. 
> 
> UPDATE [5/30/2020]: Expect the next chapter within the next two weeks. It's taken a lot longer than I had expected; there was a structural Gordian knot that I've just figured out how to untie, and the pandemic has made it even more difficult to do so. I'm doing my best to make it worth the wait!

"Mira," said a woman. "Time to eat."

"Yes, Aunt Suri," replied a girl in a hammock, dangling in the far corner above a cot on the floor. The girl was no older than eleven; even she wasn't sure exactly how old she was. Her dingy, matted hair sprawled around her shoulders. She had been reading a small, thoroughly worn book, which she set down next to a pile of faded photographs on a small shelf above her. She pulled herself up and stretched out her toes toward the ground, trying to find a spot to between the piles of clothes and towels on the cot below. 

The apartment was narrow and windowless, sealing in a muffled cacophony of shouts, clangs and flushes that would irregularly intrude. Rusty stains crept down along the sides of the sickly green walls. Washed-out blue light flickered out of a strip that traced the top of the wall that spanned the long edge of the apartment, from the hammock to the doorway only a few steps away.

A man was standing next to a woman at a cramped galley in the far corner of the apartment, a step or two from the cot. Their backs were turned to the girl. He was stirring a spoon in a small saucepan over a small heating vent, while she poured a blue liquid across three cups that took up most of the remaining counter space. Aside from the barely functioning lighting strip behind them, the apartment's only other light source was a small bulb hanging underneath a single column of narrow cabinets over the counter, which glowed just brightly enough to trace the outlines of the saucepan and the cups. "Too much," he quietly admonished after she had given one of the two larger cups a generous pour. "But you're working tonight too," she replied. Insistent, he took his cup and poured most of its contents into a smaller cup, filling it almost to the brim. He set both cups down in their usual spots on the counter. The side of his head lowered to meet hers, and his fingertips grazed the small of her back.

The girl looked up toward a door across the room in front of her. Something held her gaze. Her focus softened as she appeared to look past the apartment's lone doorway. She sat up, transfixed.

"Mira!", the man barked. "Come, eat! You have a long night ahead." He got no response. To Mira, the man was becoming invisible, his voice faded as it grew louder.

She did not react when sparks shot from the door lock. The door burst open with a hiss to reveal a black, hulking figure in a hooded cloak standing in the hallway. The figure gently pulled the hood back over his shoulders to reveal long, wavy locks of jet-black hair that contrasted sharply against his porcelain face. She did not see his scar at first. His eyes focused on the girl without moving, as though he had been looking at her through the door before ripping it aside. 

Startled, the man grabbed a shock stick from under the counter and pointed it helplessly toward the figure in the doorway. "Get out of here!" he puffed, jabbing the stick in the air and instinctively shielding the woman with his free arm. "We're just..." His jaw seized up. The cloaked figure raised the fingers of his right hand upward toward the man and the woman, freezing them in place as a low rumble shook the room. They struggled to muster so much as a twitch of their bodies; the pressure on their chests made every breath a battle.

From where they stood, the cloaked figure's broad frame occupied nearly the whole of the apartment. But to the girl, perched above him, he looked smaller, less threatening. There were things she could see that no one else did.

The cloaked figure looked up at the girl, sitting upright in the cot. "You know who I am?," he asked.

"Yes," she replied, still holding his gaze.

"You know why I'm here?"

"Yes," she said with the same subdued tone. He kept his gloved hands behind his back, pausing before continuing, "I'm going to be your teacher."

The man and the woman couldn't speak. They could only trade horrified glances, which became more urgent as it became clearer what the cloaked figure was doing there: he was taking the girl away.

The girl nodded. "I don't have a choice, do I?"

The cloaked figure shook his head.

"Okay," said the girl with resignation.

Their eyes disconnected. The girl stretched to pick up the book and small pile of photographs above the hammock where she had been sitting. She put them in her pocket and carefully lowered herself down to the cot, which added to her height as she looked up at the cloaked fiture. 

"Please, don't hurt them," she faintly implored with a fearful glance at the man and the woman. "They did their best." Stepping off the cot and toward the door, she reached back with her hand, gesturing for him to follow her.

No reaction from the cloaked figure. "Go wait outside now," he instructed. 

The girl turned to face the man and the woman. She mouthed "I'm sorry," without making a sound. The man and the woman were helpless to stop her. The girl took one last look at them, shifted back toward the door, and walked out. 

The cloaked figure did not see the girl leave. He had started scrutinizing the man and the woman when he held his right hand to his side and flicked his index and middle fingers away, slamming the door shut. The couple fell to the floor and gasped for air.

"What's going on?", the man demanded, looking down with his hands and knees on the ground. He brought his head up, catching his breath. "Why are you here? Where are you taking Mira?" The cloaked figure continued staring at them, as though nothing had been asked at all. He had the look of a judge passing sentence. 

"I know what you've made her do," said the cloaked figure. 

"What?" asked the man, confused. 

The cloaked figure repeated, more slowly and betraying contempt, "I know... what you've made... her do." He raised his chin further.

The man got up to his knees, pleading, "You... you haven't seen what it's like here... what we've had to do, all of us, just to survive..." By then the woman's horror had curdled into disgust. When she looked at the cloaked figure looming over them, she saw nothing past a vacant, self-assured scowl hanging over black robes. She narrowed her eyes and defied his to meet hers. 

"How dare you judge us!" she spat, her words cutting through clenched teeth. "With all that power you could lift us out of this wretched place, give us a better life. But what do you do? You barge into our home..."

"Suri!", exclaimed the man.

"Attack my husband, and steal our child from us!" The cloaked figure appeared agitated but unmoved. 

"Who's the real monster here," the woman snarled, "Us?" 

"...or you?"

At that cloaked figure sprung open his right hand into a gnarled claw. Something seized the throats of the man and woman and clinched them tightly. The couple pawed at their throats, desperate to loosen something that was not there. 

The woman's resolve could not be broken, even though she could barely force the words from her lungs. "You couldn't possibly know anything about survival..." 

The man begged, "Suri, stop!" The unseen ratchet around their necks tightened, tempering their screams into broken whispers. "Please...", he implored. 

"... about what it takes to protect a child..." she screamed faintly. 

The man clutched his hands over his chest as his bloodshot eyes found the figure's. "... forgive... us..."

The woman drew one more labored breath as she contorted her face into a mocking sneer, stabbing at the cloaked figure with her last words.

"... _Supreme Leader_ ‽"

The cloaked figure bared his teeth and snapped his hand shut to the crunch of grinding cartilage and bone. The couple fell to the floor together, lifeless. 

Kylo Ren was alone, panting and looking around aimlessly in shock. Composing himself, he wiped his brow and combed his fingers through his hair. He looked down on the couple's bodies. "I'll show you," he said solemnly, turning and lumbering toward the doorway.

With a quick swipe of his hand he threw the door back open. He kept his eyes low as he rushed through the doorway and into the hall, where he signaled the Stormtroopers guarding the girl to follow him without slowing his stride. They sped past dozens of nearly identical apartment doors toward an elevator bank at the end of the hallway. The reek of dankness and acid made anyone who passed through it desperate for fresh air. Most of the lighting strips were broken, blanketing the floor with a patchwork of darkness that made the Stormtroopers unsure of their steps. They hardly noticed the droplets, oozing from exposed pipes running the length of the hall above them, that stained their pristine white armor.

Two Stormtroopers were standing at the elevator to keep the doors open. Only Kylo and the girl stepped inside. They turned in opposite ways to face the doors, which closed with a grinding clank. The elevator creaked as it started ascending. Flashes of light zoomed downward along a thin opening between the doors. They each took several breaths in silence.

"We're above the ground now," remarked Kylo, standing side-by-side with the girl. "You can call me Master Kylo."

She couldn't hold back tears any longer. "I wish you hadn't killed them," she lamented, struggling not to sob. She quickly wiped her face with the back of her sleeve. Her ears popped as she swallowed.

Kylo shifted his gaze downward to the floor. He replied, "I wish that too."

His show of remorse disarmed her. After a few moments, she slowly reached out her left hand to find his, once again. This time, their fingertips touched. Through his glove, she could feel his hand--ever so slightly--trembling. 

Kylo thought he heard the girl whisper something. 

> _Luminous beings are we._

Before he could turn to look at her, the elevator jerked to a stop and the doors swished open with a piercing clang. It startled them both. Kylo began striding out as he hardened his posture and took away his hand. "Come," he commanded. He caught sight of his command shuttle directly ahead and walked briskly toward it. The path to the shuttle was lined with Stormtroopers standing in attention on both sides. A First Order officer was waiting near the bottom of the shuttle's boarding ramp. 

The girl squinted as she emerged from the elevator. She fought the urge to shield her eyes. Walking toward toward the shuttle, cautiously at first, she peered through the gaps in the Stormtroopers that surrounded her. She saw an ocean of skyscrapers sprouting up through a city that spread out in all directions, as far as she could see. She felt teeming life, planted within the buildings that held fast and coursing along the vessels that raced through. She took deep, intoxicating breaths of the rooftop air; she relished even the sweet-and-sour fragrance of the exhaust vapors left by the hundreds of transports that cross-crossed the sky. The sun was setting on Coruscant, leaving a wake of clouds drenched in brilliant purples, pinks, and blues against a bright golden sky. The sunset bathed her in warmth. She was awestruck, never having beheld anything so glorious. She saw the harmony in it all.

"Supreme Leader," the officer saluted Kylo as he arrived at the boarding ramp. Kylo turned away and stopped to look behind him. He spotted the girl several steps away, her wide eyes scanning the sky while her feet barely kept her moving toward the shuttle. He looked slightly upward to see three Star Destroyers hovering above in the distance behind her, with tight formations of patrolling TIE fighters buzzing around them. 

"Tell me," shouted Kylo, insisting to be heard over the noise of the city. "What is it that you see?"

With Stormtroopers flanking her, fighters swarming her, Star Destroyers looming behind her, and the Supreme Leader staring her down, she replied, in a soft voice that quieted everything else:

> I'll show you.


	2. The Rescue

"Let's make sure to have a bottle of sparkling white," said a man in a deep burgundy suit to a woman standing next to him. His voice was deep and raspy, with a nasal sharpness that cut confidently through the bustle of the shuttle bay. He spoke with an accent and an affect reminiscent of a former Imperial officer. "A before-Yavin vintage, if you would, please. This is a very special occasion indeed. Much to celebrate!" 

"Yes, Mister Chairman," she replied, typing on a handheld pad. Surrounding them was a throng of onlookers in ornate clothes, each making idle conversation while they waited. The group was loosely clustered in the center of an expansive landing bay. Thousands of workers stood in attention, having been directed to appear in clean attire and assemble in uniform blocks across the floor of the bay. The chairman appeared satisfied, as if everything was in order for the arrival of his honored guests.

"Chairman Volker?" asked a man from behind the chairman's shoulder.

"Yes?"

"The general's shuttle will arrive momentarily," said the man.

"General Hux?" asked the chairman.

"No, sir. We have just been informed you will be greeted by..." paused the man as he looked down at a pad, "General Costa." 

"Hmm," the chairman grunted. Otherwise he appeared unfazed while he continued scanning the stars and ships that stood against the black canvass of the shuttle bay's opening to space. He could make out a single Star Destroyer in the distance directly in front of him, and he spotted waves of troop transports--with dozens in each wave--that fanned out away from the destroyer and along vectors that would miss the shuttle bay to either side, as if heading to other bays and docking ports.

Several minutes passed, and the chairman made out a grey, tri-winged First Order shuttle, escorted by a pair of TIE fighters that turned back after the shuttle prepared to enter the bay. The shuttle's lateral wings folded upward as its landing gear extended and touched down in a clearing a few paces in front of the chairman, who turned up his chin and brightened his expression. The subtle gold piping of his jacket lapel and trousers glistened through the vapors expelled by the shuttle as it lowered its boarding ramp.

The first to emerge from the shuttle were a small detachment of Stormtroopers who flanked the path from the ramp to the chairman's party. Once the last Stormtrooper found his spot, a fresh-faced First Order officer emerged at the top of the ramp and almost lost his footing on the descent, as though he did not expect the ramp to be quite so steep. He did not remove his black officer's cap as the chairman reached out for a handshake.

"General... Costa, is it?" "Yes," the officer nodded. "Addison Volker, at your service. It's truly a pleasure to meet you." Volker was still holding out his hand and, after a moment or two, gestured for Costa to take it with a quick glance and a subtle twitch. "It's all right, son. General Hux has shaken my hand many times. It's how we do business here." Costa relented and shook Volker's hand with a single pump. 

"Ah, there we are," Volker said with a satisfied grin. "On behalf of the board of directors of the Kuat-Entralla Corporation," he gestured toward the small group of ornately attired men behind him, "and all of our executives and employees, let me be the first to welcome you to Kuat Drive Yards. We are positively delighted to consummate a new phase of our partnership with the First Order." He signaled toward the open blast doors at the rear of the shuttle bay. "Allow me to show you to our observation deck. There we can all behold the extraordinary might of the new fleet that we are proud to present." Volker began walking toward the doors and gestured for General Costa to accompany him. "Please, follow me."

Volker led Costa and the rest of their party out through the blast doors and along a red carpet, guiding their path to an oval-shaped elevator. Encased in clear windows the whole way around, the elevator was large enough to hold the entire group and dozens more. The whole vista of the elevator's rear wall was filled by the sight of a close-up of a lush green planet; from their vantage point, Volker and the entourage behind him were looking straight down at the middle of the planet's surface. They boarded the elevator and began their ascent.

It did not take long for the elevator to reach the observation deck. The elevator stopped and opened in the rear center of an expansive, circular room covered by a transparent dome. The room was already occupied by dozens of sharply-dressed executives, mingling festively and taking full advantage of the generous beverage service. Volker led Costa to the far end of the room and turned around. From there they could see not only the planet directly in front of him, but also the massive space station atop which they stood. The station circled the planet entirely, orbiting just above the planet's upper atmosphere. Like a crown jewel, the observation deck capped the center of an especially thick section of the orbital ring, marked by twenty-four Star Destroyers docked at berths along the station's outer edge with ample room between them. 

"Gentlemen," called Volker, standing next to Costa and addressing the crowd. "And of course the ladies here," he was quick to add. "As many of you know, I am not one for big speeches." The remark drew a few snickers. "But we are gathered here to celebrate creation--the assembly and delivery of state-of-the-art battleships that will help the First Order restore peace to a desperate galaxy."

"General Costa," Volker said. "I certify and warrant that the vessels being delivered today were built and tested as ordered." Volker handed Costa a pad: "If you would do the honors." Costa typed something on the pad and handed it back to Volker. 

Volker's bright expression dimmed when he saw the pad. He took a step toward Costa. "This transfer you have authorized," Volker said in a low voice, his eyes still fixed on the pad. "It's denominated in... First Order credits?"

"Yes, it is," replied Costa with a smug affect.

Volker bit his lip and shrugged. "That was not our agreement."

"Are you refusing the First Order's payment?", snapped Costa.

"Oh no, I would never do such a thing," said Volker, just shy of sarcastically. He looked around at the crowd while placing his hand on the back of Costa's shoulder. "If you all would excuse us for a minute, please, while we iron out this last, small wrinkle." Costa followed Volker's lead closer the nearest part of the dome. 

Volker spoke discreetly but firmly. "Perhaps General Hux did not have the chance to share this with you, but our agreement was clear: the First Order would submit all payments, including its last payment, in Republic dataries."

"The Republic is no more," declared Costa with an exaggerated arrogance. "The First Order is forever!"

"Yes, yes, of course it is," replied Volker, waving his free hand. "But you see, our business partners expect payment in dataries. Our employees are paid in dataries. Our shareholders receive their profits in dataries. Now, I have no doubt that First Order credits will become the universal currency... in due time. But, in this early stage of the transition, we must insist that the First Order honor its agreement." 

"I have my orders from the Supreme Leader himself," said Costa, now puffing his chest. "I am to take delivery of the twenty-four Star Destroyers, today. Will you accept our payment," Costa paused, "or shall I inform the Supreme Leader of your defiance? Maybe you've heard tell of his... temper."

Volker was taken aback. "That's not what I have been told. To the contrary, my friends in the core systems have nothing but praise for the Supreme Leader's savvy and business acumen. His annexation of Coruscant? Brilliant! He made the right promises to the people, forged the right alliances with local leaders..." Volker raised an eyebrow, "Paid the proper, shall we say, dues?"

"Ohh," mused Volker inquisitively. "I see what's happening here. The First Order has won over so many new worlds. But success comes at a price, doesn't it? Coffers running a little low, are they?" Costa averted Volker's gaze. "Don't think we haven't noticed that the First Order has provided only a fraction of the garrison that it promised, that its security personnel have included far too many ill-trained drunkards, or that its last two payments were inexplicably late. And how do you propose to reward our flexibility as a business partner? By paying us, essentially, nothing at all."

"Well," said Volker, "while I admire your ambition, we do business a certain way here. Our currency is dataries." He held out the pad. "The payment, if you would, please."

Costa seethed. "Tens of thousands of my Stormtroopers are stationed here, with thousands more arriving every hour. Why shouldn't I order them to take those Star Destroyers--and your station as well?"

Volker sucked his teeth and narrowed his eyes. "You are playing a very dangerous game now, son," he warned. "The First Order depends on us, just as it depends on its many other business partners. Would you tell all of them that the First Order is not in the business of looting and plundering from its most essential patrons? Would you sully your Supreme Leader's reputation so? Besides," he scowled as he looked down over the orbital ring, past his reflection in the window, "for generations we have been building the finest battleships in the galaxy. And who do you think you are? All I see is an errand boy, who hasn't any idea how to build a goddamn thing." 

Costa blinked hard and contorted his face, seemingly unsure whether to project resignation or rage. "Now that we understand each other," Volker said as he raised the pad above his waist and toward Costa. "Our payment. Please."

Costa swiped the pad from Volker's hand and began tapping on it angrily. "There," Costa snapped. "Full payment, in dataries." Volker maintained his grave expression while he examined the pad. 

After a moment Volker's eyes lit up. He smiled broadly, relaxed his posture, and let out a hearty laugh. "Wonderful, wonderful," he exclaimed. "It's always a pleasure doing business with the First Order." He looked down at the pad and talked as he typed, "Now let me simply transfer the command codes and... there. Your order is hereby delivered." He held the pad up to his chest and looked back at Costa. "These fine Star Destroyers are now under your most capable command. Congratulations, General."

Volker kept his eyes on Costa as he raised his hand above his shoulder and twitched his fingers in a curling motion. A nearby attendant understood his signal and swiftly presented Volker and Costa with a bottle. Volker nodded, prompting the attendant to pop open the bottle and pour one glass each for Volker and Costa. 

"A toast," Volker announced to the onlookers in the observation deck as he lifted his glass. "To the continued partnership of the Kuat-Entralla Corporation and the First Order. Long live the Supreme Leader!" 

Costa and the onlookers responded to the call, "Long live the Supreme Leader!" Volker moved in close to Costa and bent down to his ear. "And that unpleasant... attempted extortion business," Volker said softly. "That can be our little secret, hm?" Volker took a step back and rapped his glass against Costa's. 

"Cheers," Volker gloated. The pad in his hand started flashing and sounding an alarm. Volker looked down at it; his jubilation soured. 

"That's... not possible..."

Deep within the bowels of a Star Destroyer, a woman in a black First Order engineer's uniform walked briskly through winding corridors, weaving through hoards of other engineers, Stormtroopers, and First Order officers. An opaque, reflective black helmet obscured the entirety of her face. She turned a corner into a turbolift and peeked outside the doors, as if to ensure that no one would follow her in. She pressed a control panel for the doors to close and pulled a comlink out of her pocket. 

"Ember Two, this is Ember One," she said. "Ember Two here, go ahead," responded a man through the comlink. She replied, "Device activation and sync confirmed. I'm leaving the party. Report when you're ghosting. Copy." "Copy that," said the man. 

The turbolift doors opened to reveal a quiet, dimly lit corridor lined on one side with a row of hatches, each of which connected to an escape pod. The woman quickly opened one of the hatches and strapped herself into the pod. It was cramped, seating a maximum of two people back-to-back. The woman's seat faced away from the hatch and toward a viewport on the opposite side. All she could see through the viewport in front of her was space. With the flip of several switches, she closed the hatch and primed the pod for ejection. 

"This is Ember Two," said a voice from the comlink. "Ready to ghost on your mark." 

"Stand by," said the woman into the comlink as she gripped the control stick with her other hand. "Ghosting in three, two, one..."

"Mark."

Two escape pods blasted away. Each of the pods shot out of the underside of different Star Destroyers, which which were docked at opposite ends of the station's thickest section that featured the First Order's twenty-four new battleships. The pods accelerated in parallel as though dropped from the edge of a hoop; as they hurled away from the station, the rear viewport of each pod allowed more Star Destroyers' underbellies to be seen, and the once seemingly straight line of the station's shape bent increasingly into a circle. 

"Is something wrong," Costa asked wryly. 

"I'm sure it's nothing," replied Volker. "The reactors of the Malak and the Revan are running a little hotter than normal. It's probably just an unscheduled reactor test. Let me..."

"Those ships," Costa interrupted, "are mine now. I'll be the one to clean up what ever mess you've made."

"Oh for the love of," cried Volker. "This is not the time, son. Balesair!"

"Yes, Mr. Volker," responded a grey-clad woman nearby.

"Get me the duty managers of the Revan and the Malak right away," Volker directed. The woman nodded and turned to speak into an earpiece.

"Sir," said another grey-clad woman to Volker. "We've detected two escape pods heading away from the station."

"Lock turbolasers on them and prepare to fire!," yelled Costa.

"Do no such thing," Volker countermanded. "Whoever is in those pods might be the only ones who know what's happening."

Costa pulled out a comlink. "This is General Costa. We have identified two unauthorized escape pods. Scramble the alert fighters with orders intercept..." Costa paused to look at Volker and added with a snarl, "... and retrieve."

The pods continued gaining velocity as they fled the station. The woman in one pod turned around and spoke into the comlink as she looked out the rear viewport. “They’re scrambling fighters. We’ve got about a sixty second lead.” Suddenly in the bottom right corner of the rear viewport, she saw exactly what she had been hoping to see: rescue.

Seven X-Wings in a v-shaped formation flashed out of hyperspace. They were matched to the speed and trajectory of the pods, which appeared to hover ahead and above them on either side of the formation. TIE fighters that had been gaining on the pods changed course and swooped down to engage the X-Wings, which opened their S-foils into attack position.

“Woo! Great work, 3PO,” shouted Poe Dameron from the cockpit of the lead X-Wing. "You shot us right between the planet and the station, and I have a visual on the pods." C3PO was standing next to R2-D2 and Admiral Organa on the bridge of the _Ackbar_. "Due credit to my counterpart," 3CPO said, prompting approving beeps from R2-D2. Leia chimed in, "Go get 'em, Poe." "Yes, ma'am," he responded.

“Red Two," said Poe into his helmet comlink, "go get the port escape pod. Everyone else, break off and give us some cover. I’ve got the starboard.” Poe pushed the throttle and tilted the stick to veer his X-Wing up and to the right, on course to intercept the woman’s pod. He flipped a switch and spoke into his comlink, "Ember One, this is your ride. Moving in to pick you up. Copy." "Copy that," responded a woman through the comlink, "Shame to leave a party when it's about to get lit." Poe replied with a smile, "Should be a hell of a party."

The once-genteel atmosphere of the observation deck had turned chaotic. Costa was apoplectic. "All Star Destroyers, prime your turbolasers and destroy those X-Wings!" A voice spoke back through his comlink, "Sir, the enemy fighters are moving out of range." 

"What... is... happening?!," said Volker with an increasingly raised voice and maniacal look. "Where are my managers?" The woman with the earpiece responded, "I have them now, sir." A holoscreen along the outside window of the observation deck near Volker projected a split-screen of two men working frantically at different terminals, surrounded by panicking First Order officers and Kuat civilians. "Marlow, Festor, tell me what's going on with your ships?" The man on the right side of the screen responded without looking up, "Sir, the core temperature is rapidly approaching critical levels. It's stuck in some kind of feedback loop. We don't know..." 

Volker interrupted. "What are you doing to stop it?"

"We're trying to shut down the reactor, but our attempts to take control aren't working," the man replied. Then the man on the left interjected, "We can't shut ours down either. Overload is imminent." Each man was pummeled by a barrage of shouts from infuriated First Order officers, whose words tangled into an indistinct garble as they were broadcast to the observation deck.

Poe's X-Wing was seconds away from intercepting the woman's escape pod. "BB-8, get the claw ready," he said. BB-8 beeped in recognition from his seat in the droid slot atop the X-Wing, whose rearmost panel had been rigged with a three-pronged docking clamp, and turned its head to track the pod. "Steady," Poe muttered, lowering the throttle and carefully adjusting the stick to curve the X-Wing's course so that it would barely overtake the pod. Just as the X-Wing slid in front of the pod, with about two meters between them, Poe called out, "Now!" With a chirp BB-8 nimbly worked the docking controls to spring open the prongs, extend the clamp, grab hold of the pod, and reel it in. The droid let out an extended, excited whir. 

"Well done, buddy!" cheered Poe as he turned around to glance out of the rear of the cockpit. The pod was secured firmly to the aft section of the X-Wing. In the distance, amid scattered turbolaser blasts, he could make out five X-Wings chasing a discordant gaggle of TIE fighters. 

"This is Red Two. Pod secured," heard Poe through the comlink.

"Great job, Red Two," said Poe. "Red Leader's pod is secured. All fighters, prepare to make the jump." The five dogfighting X-Wings immediately disengaged and beelined toward the two lead Resistance fighters, each of which now carried a Star Destroyer escape pod behind it. All seven X-Wings closed their S-foils. Poe kept one arm braced against the control panel to get a better look over his shoulder. His focus was on the station.

Alarms rang out on the observation deck. "Tell those officers," demanded Volker with desperation, "to key in their override codes and initiate an emergency shutdown! We need to get control right now, or we all die!"

"That's what we keep telling them," said the man on the left side of the screen, "but they won't..."

Instantly the observation deck was bombarded by blinding white light that flashed from both sides of the dome. Massive explosions burst from deep within the Star Destroyers on opposite ends that ripped through the station and cleaved the entire section from the rest of the orbital ring. Slamming into the observation deck were shockwaves that obliterated the dome. 

Poe squinted and swung his head back around to face the front of the cockpit. "Punch it!", he yelled as he reached for the hyperspace lever. Within a second of one another, all seven X-Wings jumped to hyperspace; in their wake, they left swarms of fast-moving debris around a broken-off section of the station that was gnarled at both ends, falling from orbit toward the planet, and dragging what remained of the attached Star Destroyers down with it.

Poe's squadron of X-Wings finally emerged from hyperspace alongside three heavy cruisers surrounded by an assortment of support ships. The squadron's course through hyperspace had included several stops to confirm that they were not being tracked. "This is General Dameron to the _Ackbar_ ," Poe said into his comlink. "Red squadron requests permission to land." 

"Welcome home, Poe," he heard Leia reply. "We're not picking up any beacons from the pods or any ships in pursuit. Permission granted." 

Poe's X-Wing--with an escape pod still in tow--swooped into the lead cruiser's main hangar bay, where it was greeted by an ecstatic crowd of Resistance crew. Poe carefully steered the fighter toward its assigned landing pad, on the edge of which stood a pile of barrels and crates to cradle the pod and keep it from from tipping the fighter backwards after landing. "Pretty low-tech," remarked Poe as he aligned the pod over the pile and touched down. "But... hey," he added, grateful that his signature X-Wing had not fallen over, "whatever works!"

The crowd ran over and cheered as Poe, hooting and waving, raised the canopy and stood with one foot on the outside ladder. The side hatch of the escape pod opened, and out climbed the woman in the First Order engineer's uniform. She stood tall amid the onlookers and removed her black helmet; the crowd's cheers grew even wilder once they recognized the familiar face of one of the Resistance's top intelligence officers. Poe jumped off the ladder and weaved through the crowd to greet her. He shook her hand with unbridled enthusiasm, and she embraced him with several vigorous pats of his back.

Poe addressed the crowd. "The Resistance made history today, and it's thanks to every one of you. Major Kavara," he said as he put his arm around the woman's shoulders, "spent weeks undercover to make this mission happen. So did Lieutenant Iowin," he continued, pointing to the black-clad man emerging from the rogue escape pod attached to the X-Wing at the adjacent landing pad, "who should be joining us very soon. And Chief Petty Officer Tico, where are you..." 

Spanner in hand, Rose peeked reluctantly out from behind the engine of an A-Wing she had been repairing at the other side of the hangar. "Rose, there you are!" Poe continued: "Chief Petty Officer Tico was the architect of this mission. It was her vision, and it was her know-how that let us build those overload devices. Because of her, Major Kavara, Lieutenant Iowin, and all of you who put your lives on the line for this Resistance every day, we hit the First Order where it hurts them most. Let's keep the fight going!" The crowd erupted in cheers. Poe glanced at Rose and flashed a puzzled look as he saw her return to her repairs. 

At first, Poe followed the flow of the crowd as most of them streamed toward the hangar's blast doors--with the ostensible goal of celebrating at the _Ackbar_ 's recently upgraded lounge. But just when he was about to leave the hangar, he paused and grimaced. "I'll catch up. Don't have too much fun without me!" he told the crowd as he started jogging toward the A-Wing that was obscuring Rose.

"Rose," he called with a bemused grin. "What's up? Come on, celebrate with us! You're the woman of the hour. Well, one of two women of the hour... or, actually, more than two. The point is, this is your moment to shine. I want you to see that, what you did here, it's so important, and it made us all proud."

Rose bristled at Poe's words but hid behind feigned positivity. "Yeah, I appreciate the invite, general," she replied. "But I've got a lot to do here." 

"Hey, don't feel like you have to join, but..." Poe started to worry as he looked over Rose's face. "Is everything all right?"

"I'm fine, just..." Rose trailed off with a downward glance. She looked back up at Poe. "It's nothing. A conversation for another time. You deserve to go and have a good time."

"Okay, fine, I'm not going to twist your arm," said Poe. "We'll catch up later, then, huh?"

"Yes, sir. Absolutely," replied Rose with an insincerely over-eager smile. She gave Poe a salutatory shake of her spanner, turned around, and crouched next to the engine to resume her repairs. Poe likewise turned around and strode toward the blast doors. But he couldn't shake a feeling of unease... 

Poe heeded that feeling. He gave Rose another glance over his shoulder. When he looked at her more closely, he could see that she was upset--maybe even on the verge of crying. Rose tried unconvincingly to stay focused on her repairs while Poe cautiously walked back toward her and knelt down next to her.

"This is more important," Poe assured her. "If you're up for it, I'd like to hear you out." The hangar had grown quiet. The medallion on Rose's necklace caught the light from an overhead lamp. She gave a few small nods before sitting down on the deck, her arms propped up by her knees.

Rose wondered aloud, staring blankly and holding back tears, "What if what we're fighting for... isn't the right thing?"


End file.
